Different kinds of torture
by Skysha-Tranqui
Summary: Seth reflects on past decisions, and his feelings for Ryan. SethRyan. R&R, please? Explains some of Seth's childhood, and how it ties in with the present day.[COMPLETE]


Disclaimer: I don't own O.C., or any of its characters, so don't sue me!

Pairing: Seth/Ryan

Plot: hmm…not sure yet!

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I know Ryan has had a tough life. I know he was knocked around as a kid, by both his mother's boyfriends, and his older brother. I know he went to jail, and I know that was no picnic either. What I don't know is why he wants to immerse himself in the type of lifestyle I detest. The one I've fought so hard to distance myself from.

The geek. That is how I am known in this neighbourhood. At school I get teased for being 'geeky'. I don't have all that many friends, and the ones I do have are more casual acquaintances, than life-long buddies. Outside of school I rarely go out. Not because I don't want to, just mainly from lack of need. With the girls I am either treated like a pesky younger brother, or my existence is completely ignored. Things weren't always like this though.

When I was younger, I ran away from home. I ran as far and as fast as I could, which ended up being quite a long way, taking into account how rich my family is. I deliberately fell in with the wrong crowd. Hanging with gangsters more than twice my age, doing drugs, stealing, getting into fights…

I almost died from an overdose once, but I somehow managed to pull through. Wasn't enough to make me quit though. I just lay in a gutter somewhere, drenched in my own vomit and piss, waiting to die. But I survived. I got thrown in jail once when I got caught stealing. They didn't keep me there though, namely because I was too young, but also because the charge was too small. A stern lecture, a night in a cold cell with inmates older than my parents, then I was on my way again the next day.

I never wanted to come back, the only reason I did was because the police made me. They didn't bother doing an extensive search for my parents when I was arrested for stealing. It was the murder rap that made them get their butts in gear.

Now, don't get me wrong. My time on the streets didn't make me turn into some kind of muscle-bound hero, and I'm complete crap in a proper fight. I did however manage to get involved in some very dodgy goings-on, and the murder was a part of it. It wasn't the first murder I witnessed, but it was the only scene I got caught at.

The way it all panned out was actually quite comical, in hindsight. I was going about my normal business, buying drugs from my dealer – who himself was so high he had no clue as to how old I was – when one of his other customers came by looking for trouble. 

I won't go into details, namely because I was high too at the time, and the memory is kind of hazy to say the least, but also because I've spent too much time going over it with my shrink and can't be bothered to relive it again. Anyway, the other customer ended up killing my dealer, which majorly pissed me off – where was I going to get my stash now – then the little fink scampered when the police came, having been alerted by one of the more 'conscientious' neighbours. Read – they didn't want to get blamed for the murder later on.

It soon became apparent to the police that I wasn't the killer, but that I was only witness to the murder. So, they called my parents. My parents came, convinced me to pick out the killer. I got off scot free. I got taken home.

This isn't a happily ever-after story, where I went home to a hero's welcome, met a pretty girl, fell in love, married, had a few babies etc. 

For a started, it's standard procedure for a physical to be carried out when people are 'found' again. This revealed my extensive use of drugs, if my condition upon meeting my parents hadn't been indication enough. So, once home, I had to go through drug rehabilitation, which was no sweet ride, let me tell you. 

I should probably mention the fact that I managed to cram an awful lot of badness into a small amount of time, meaning I wasn't even gone all that long – a year maximum. 

Being the stuck-up, self-centred assholes that the people in this town are, they hadn't even noticed I was gone all that much. My parents hadn't made a big deal out of the fact that their kid had run away, they'd hired private investigators, climbed the walls with worry, and gone on with their life as usual. So, when it came time for me to come home, they decided to cover up my absence for me, to ease my way back into normal society.

Instead, they'd got the new, improved, me. Sarcastic, cynical, unsociable, me. To begin with they'd thought it was a result of all I'd been through, so they'd sent me to a psychiatrist who seemed to be obsessed with hearing all of the 'gory' details of what I'd gone through. Personally, I feel she wished she could have done it all herself.

But that had no effect, except to give me something to bitch about. See, the problem wasn't what had happened to me, it was what had made me run away in the first place, and I'd already dealt with that on my own, so I wasn't about to rehash just for the sake of pleasing other people.

When I was younger, like, just before I ran away, I was just like all of the other spoilt, rich kids who live around here. I wore designer labels, I talked posh, I had my own mini group of worshippers, and I looked like a miniature version of my parents. Then something happened to shock me out of it.

I used to be best friends with Luke. Not that anybody here remembers that – they all seem to be pretty good at wiping things they don't want to remember from their memories. I ran away because of him. Inadvertently, but he was still the reason for my behaviour. See I fell in love with him. 

I say 'love', because I was physically too young for sexual relationships, and yet I don't mean the spiritual kind of 'love' either. It was somewhere in between the two. The kind of feeling you get when you realise you _really_ like someone. I asked my mum about it, because I didn't understand this strange urge to be near him, and brush against him casually. I felt slightly ashamed of my feelings, even then, and I remember hiding the identity of this person. My mum assumed I was talking about a girl, and was delighted she was having to give me the 'birds and the bees' talk so young. She thought it was a sign that I was a born lothario, and made sure to explain to me in great detail all I would ever need to know.

Basically, I discovered I was gay. And I couldn't cope. Spoilt, little rich brat, couldn't cope with being gay, so ran away and immersed himself in a life of even worse depravities. 

I'm okay with it now of course, and I hide it. I know the consequences of being gay in the community I live in. I'd be even more of social pariah than I am today. I figure it's okay if I hide it by developing completely obvious 'crushes' on equally unattainable girls. Then, when I'm older and out of here, maybe I'll meet someone who will make it all worth while. Or maybe not, I don't mind.

Or, at least, I didn't. Until he arrived. Suddenly, it was my crush on Luke repeating itself. Only, it was on Ryan, a lot stronger than before, and it definitely included those physical urges I'd been too young for before. Why do I always fall for my best friends? 

I can't blame him for any of this though. After all, he hardly asked to come here, let alone for me to fall for him. I don't even wish him bad for fancying Marissa. In fact, I wish him well. 

I'll just have to grit my teeth and play the part of a fun-loving fool, with a sharp sense of humour, and a quip constantly on my lip.

I'll have to try to get mum and dad to ease up on Ryan though, they keep such a close eye on him I wouldn't be surprised to see him bolt again. If only I could tell him they didn't mean anything by it. If only he knew that the reason they were so worried about him being a bad influence on me was because of my past…But, no. I won't tell him about that, not ever. I'm almost ashamed of my past, when I'm around him. We've both seen and done some pretty stupid things, but at least he had no choice in the matter. I was completely responsible for my actions though, and I don't think I could stand his reaction to hearing that. 

Let him date whoever he wants, let him just think of me as a friend. But, don't let him know the things I did, and the things I wanted to put myself through.

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Well? What do you think? Too angsty? I've only seen one episode so far mind you, and it was the third one in, so you must forgive me if my characterisation is a bit off. Might write more if you like it, if not, it doesn't matter. This was just a random thought I had.


End file.
